


Reckless Abandon

by NoMournerNoFunerals93



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Is Sunshine, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Adulthood, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Badass Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Best Friends, Chat Noir Being Chat Noir, Chat Noir Needs A Hug, Chat Noir To The Rescue, Chat Noir/Ladybug Fluff, Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Confident Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Cussing, Declarations Of Love, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Everyone Loves Ladybug, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Heartbreak, Help, Hot Mess Adrien Agreste, Hot Mess Marinette Dupain-Cheng, How Do I Tag, Hurt Chat Noir, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Music, Jealous Adrien Agreste, Love Confessions, Minor Injuries, Minor Violence, Music, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Marinette Dupain-Cheng, POV Third Person, Playlist, Protective Chat Noir, Reunions, Shameless Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2019-12-30 04:47:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18308486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoMournerNoFunerals93/pseuds/NoMournerNoFunerals93
Summary: It's five years post-graduation. Marinette left everything behind after defeating Hawkmoth and getting her heart broken. Adrien stayed behind in Paris after Chat suffered some heartbreak of his own, left to deal with the aftermath of his father. The two have come to meet again at a reunion and learn the hard way that matters of the heart don't always go as planned (mini chapter playlists included).





	1. Closeness and Confessions

**A/N:**

 

     Okay friends, it's been about a decade since I've actually written any serious fanfiction. I do write a little of my own stuff in my free time, but mostly I just read a lot. If you're taking the time to try out my story, I really appreciate it and would be grateful for some feedback. I got really into Miraculous two weeks ago, binged everything in about 3 or 4 days, and then started putting this together. 

Also warning you all now, there will be eventual smut. I'm not going to warn again when it's actually going down because it will take the surprise out of it, so if it's not your thing, this story may not be for you. The depth of said smut is yet to be determined, bare with me. 

At the beginning of every chapter I'm going to list a few of the songs I was listening to while writing. I have no particular reasoning behind this. I just like sharing music and when the songs fit the mood of the chapter, it's just really cool. 

Anyways, I promise this will be my longest author's note. I'm just super rusty and felt like I had to explain some things. 

Go easy on me, I am fragile. And as always, happy reading!

 

xXx

 

Fake Happy - Paramore 

 

Televised - HUNNY

 

There's a Honey - Pale Waves

 

Miss Atomic Bomb - The Killers 

 

Over It - HARBOUR

 

xXx

  
  


Marinette was certain of only three things as she approached the steps leading to the hotel also known as Le Grand Paris. The first being that her measurements on the spectacular dress she made were spectacularly wrong. The clasps in the back were pressing painfully against her spine, shooting a jolting shock straight down her middle every time she took a deep breath; and skies only knows how many times she'd done exactly that in an attempt to quell the anxiety coursing through her every limb.  No, her nerves had gotten the better of her as she'd put the garment together with this party in mind, distress rippling through every stitch. Now she would get to look as stupid as she felt. Fantastic.

 

The second certainty she clung to was somehow much more daunting than the first in that while she had built quite the prestigious name for herself in all things fashion, she was once more feeling like the scared, heartbroken shell she left in Paris five years ago. She had put together and mastered herself in America, effectively walling herself off from her former life and everything that had come with it. Being back in Paris was dragging her down to uncertain depths that she wasn't in the least bit prepared for, no matter how hard she tried to muster the courage. Lingering in the shadows while the party clearly raged far above, Marinette wondered for the umpteenth time if this was actually a good idea or if this whole night would end in complete disaster. 

 

The third surety was that she was utterly late. The Françoise Dupont High School reunion of sorts was scheduled to begin at roughly six p.m. but Marionette hadn't stumbled upon the premises until nearly seven thirty, and had already wasted a good fifteen minutes outside fidgeting, trying to convince herself that she could enter with her head held high and everything would surely be fine. Though, if she were being completely honest with herself, Marinette knew this would not,  _ could  _ not be the case. 

 

When she last left Paris, she severed a lot of ties and burned a whole lot of bridges; she snared her former life in an inferno and didn't let the burning stop until ashes were all the remained. She'd been relieved to do so at the time, feeling freer than she had in forever, but more and more over the years the little nagging sensation surfaced in the back of her head, telling her that perhaps losing contact with everyone wasn't the brightest idea. Was Alya still doing journalism even though her favorite heroes were no longer around to report on? Did Nino ever make a name for himself in Paris’ music industry? Had Chloé Bourgeois ever grown a heart? The never-ending questions swarmed her mind until one day she received an invitation. And now… well, here she was. 

 

Uncomfortable, emotional, and seriously late. 

 

“Hey!” a voice called out, shaking Marinette from her abysmal thoughts. She looked over her shoulder in time to see a figure making its way towards her, though it was too dark to make out who was approaching. She immediately spun and maneuvered herself into a casual defensive stance. Some things never changed. 

 

However, she had a soul-leaving-body experience when the figure was just close enough for her to make out the blonde tousled locks peeking out from beneath his hood, the firm line of his jaw. He drew nearer until Marinette’s breath hitched at the sight of his green irises staring back at her. 

 

The static between the two was palpable, frenzied and searing, sweeping the myriad of emotions into a chaotic knot in the base of her stomach. After all these years, she still couldn't be in the same room as him without the yearning leashing her heart.

 

“Umh,” Adrien begun uncertainly, twisting something in his hands. “I'm sorry, but I think you dropped this.” Reaching out with both hands, he offered a simple black satin glove in his palms that Marinette immediately recognized as her own. It must have fallen out when she haphazardly shoved them into her coat pockets while exiting the cab. 

 

Marinette relaxed her stance, rolling her shoulders once before finally getting a good look at him from the street lamp looming above. He looked dapper in an all black suit riding over a grey vest and black button up. She let herself imagine, if only for a moment, running her hands over the fabric on his chest. Though she told herself it was for fashion studies, she knew the thought had ulterior motives.

Adrien, still offering her the glove, cleared his throat, effectively shattering her stray thoughts. She realized, to her own horror that she'd just been staring at him without uttering a single word in response to his chivalry. 

 

Of course he would still be the well mannered, kind hearted soul that she remembered him to be, she realized bitterly. Her dumb luck that he hadn't become an asshole she could simply be happy to wipe her hands of. 

 

“Er… Thanks, Adrien,” she stammered, a light blush creeping up her cheekbones. 

 

“Whaa… Marinette?” Adrien gasped out, clearly rattled. She only clenched her jaw in return. Why had she expected him to remember that she was in the same graduating class as him? Especially when her goal had been to become a distant memory to all of them, Adrien especially. She couldn't breathe if she lingered on the thought too long. 

 

“Yeah… It's me,” she replied lamely, finally taking her glove from his offered hands. Adrien shrank back from her, running his palm against the back of his neck in a movement that was a ghost of a memory. 

 

“Sorry, I didn't recognize you,” he apologized, gesturing towards her hooded coat. Marinette shrugged in response, pushing the hood back from her head. Blood thrumming in response to the once-over Adrien cast her, she couldn't help the small smile that formed on her lips. They were both older, but not so much had changed esthetically. He was still just as beautiful as she remembered, perhaps a little more rugged in his handsomeness, but the fluttering in her chest refused to cease as it always had. Marinette hadn't wanted to run as far away from her feelings as possible since the day she packed up and shipped off to America. 

 

“You look good, Marinette,” he smiled back, continuing before she had the chance to foolishly blush or respond. “I heard you moved to the states.” Ah, so he hadn't forgotten about her afterall. “I wasn't sure if you'd come so far for this thing, but I'm glad you did. I'm sure Alya will be psyched to see you.”

 

Marinette highly doubted that, but didn't rebuke his point. The faster she could get through this conversation, the faster she could hightail it out of there. It was a mistake to come to the reunion, a mistake to come to Paris in the first place. If all it took was one conversation with Adrien to bring back feelings she'd tried tirelessly to repress, then how could she possibly face the rest of her former classmates and successfully survive the rest of the evening? 

 

“I'm also glad I'm not the only one running terribly late,” Adrien chuckled, moving on when she didn't respond to his last comment. “You always were running on your own schedule, huh? I guess some things never change,” he winked, something vaguely familiar in the gesture that caused Marinette to frown in contemplation. Perhaps it was his words, an echo of a thought she'd had not even five minutes ago, but it was something else too. 

 

“-and anyways, I think I'm going to go in.” Apparently, while she'd been distracted, he had continued his one-sided conversation. “Are you waiting for someone?” Adrien asked, probably wondering why she had been standing alone outside of the party instead of seeing what her former friends were up to. 

 

“No, I'm just nervous, I guess,” she admitted, finally looping herself back into discussion, though she looked to the hotel’s red awnings behind them instead of meeting his eyes.

 

“I could walk you in,” he offered, gesturing to his now outstretched arm, there for the taking. Chivalry until death, she supposed. 

 

“You don't have to,” she found herself responding. “I mean, I'll be fine going in alone.” She didn't want his pity, didn't want the people inside to think they were together, either. The latter may have consequences for Adrien, as she assumed she would be the pariah of the party. He didn't deserve to have a shitty night at the sake of saving her some embarrassment. Besides, if she really was going to bail on the whole shenanigan, she couldn't exactly go with Adrien into the party. That would be counterproductive if nothing else. 

 

“Actually if it's okay with you, I'd like to go in together,” Adrien persisted. “I haven't seen most of our class since we graduated and I suppose I'm feeling a little anxious myself.” Marinette met his gaze then, considering. On one hand, she was certain nothing good would come of her walking into this party and facing all that she had left behind.

 

“If you'd rather go in by yourself, I understand.” His voice was almost too low for her to hear. 

 

On the other hand, this was Adrien. Stupid, beautiful Adrien. She wondered if he remembered all those years ago in front of her parents bakery; the beginning of the end. Was he thinking about it now? 

 

It didn't matter, she was sure it never would with him. 

 

Without another moment's hesitation, she looped her arm through his offered one. Marinette was curious about the look of shock that crossed over his face, but made no mention of it. Instead she watched the hotel now looming before them, doom seemingly imminent; so much so that she had the sudden urge to turn around and go home. But this was something she knew she had to face so instead gathered strength from the solid presence at her side. 

 

All too soon, the front doors opened before them, the brusque air replaced by the cossiness of the decadently furnished lobby. They were greeted by a display of elegant party decor lacing every inch of the room. The white marble flooring was brighter than she remembered, only further illuminated by the dusting of twinkle lights strewn about. The square support pillars were wrapped loosely by sheer red ribbons to match the rest of the interior. Located next to the desk was a chalkboard sign detailing that the reunion was to be hosted on the top floor in a fancy penmanship. She could spot the pigeon key holes behind the counter, little pieces of red fabric tucked on top. They really had gone all out, no detail too small, everything flowing together in a cohesive but lavish setting. She doubted the Queen Bee herself had actually put any of it together. 

 

Marinette hadn't seen or talked to Chloé Bourgeois in the years since the move and she supposed people could change. Still, she couldn't help from wondering why she of all people would be the one to organize and host a reunion when she never seemed to like any of them very much.  

 

And of course she had other questions too (starting with the former model extraordinaire she was currently linked with) but as they trudged further into the familiar setting, the pieces of her life in Paris began to play out. It was right here in this very lobby where they shadowed the hotel workers and she got upset when Adrien and Chloé got paired together, while she was sentenced to a day of  ‘gophering’. It was on the floors above where she fought off her best friend when she was akumatized into Lady Wifi. Outside the hotel, near the fountain was where she kissed Chat Noir to break him from Dark Cupid’s spell. Her breath hitched as the latter memory had her heart ricocheting in her rib cage.

 

“Are you alright?” Adrien quiried, no doubt noticing the mini panic attack that was ensuing. 

 

“I'm fine,” she breathed, her clasps digging heavy into the tender skin of her back.  _ Just living with ghosts _ she mentally added. Marinette mastered herself once more. 

 

Adrien frowned and leaned forward to call for the elevator. He was careful enough to keep her arm tucked into his, almost as if he was afraid that if he let go, she'd split off in the other direction.

 

A very valid fear, she realized with a snort, as the contact between the two, while small, was the only thing keeping her there. 

 

“What's so funny?” Adrien quiered, nudging her side with his elbow, a small smile playing on his lips.

 

Oh skies, she actually had laughed aloud to her inner dialogue. Her eyes widened briefly as she met his soft green stare. Marinette could feel the blush creeping up her neck, which was almost as ridiculous as it was embarrassing. She hadn't had to suffer through these kinds of things since leaving. 

 

“I, uh… well, it's just that, um.” And of course her mind was drawing a blank. And of course he was staring at her as though she'd sprouted a second head. Marinette swallowed. “I was just wondering to myself if Sabrina still worships the ground Chloé steps on or if she's on her own now.” Yes, that seemed like a safe topic as well as a convincing cover.

 

“As far as I've heard, she actually gets paid to follow Chloé around. She hired Sabrina on as her assistant, I think.”

 

“As far as you've heard?” Marinette couldn't stop the question from leaving her mouth. Her filter be damned. He had mentioned something when they met up outside about not seeing very many of them since graduation but she didn't even think to consider that he may have left Paris as well. Life continued moving for everyone despite her not being there. It wasn't surprising, but again something she hadn't contemplated. 

 

“Yeah, I haven't exactly been… around lately.” His tone was quite ominous indeed. Was he hiding something?

 

“Oh, did you flee the country too?” Marinette’s teasing tone was light, hiding the depth of the question. She found she wanted to know everything Adrien was doing and had done since she'd left. It was disheartening.

 

“Not exactly,” he confessed, a sudden sense of paranoia enveloping the lobby. Why was he acting so strange? Then again, Marinette wasn't sure what was normal for him or anyone else anymore. She'd lost that right when she abandoned them all with no regard. 

 

“I've just been dealing with some things since graduating…. With my father and all of that,” he equivocated. Marinette watched as his fingers flexed and unflexed into a fist; as if he were fighting off some inner demons of his own. “I honestly haven't seen much of anyone, but have heard a little from those that I do. I'm out of his house and staying in a little place on the outskirts of town.”

 

“What happened?” Marinette ventured. Adrien finally cast his gaze sideways, effectively trapping her in a staring match. The despair she found waiting in his eyes sent her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Would he always have this effect on her? 

 

“I found out that my father… isn't who I thought he was.” His voice was hardly above a whisper and Marinette found herself leaning in to his words. “I almost did something terrible but I'm still not sure if it's something I would have come to regret or not. It's all so very… complicated,” he finished vaguely. They were but a breath apart, still locked in their eye contact. 

 

“Adrien,” she began, something sparking in his eyes with his name on her lips. “I may not know enough about you to say this, but the boy that I- er, the boy that you  _ were _ was always kind and thoughtful. I don't think there's any part of you  _ now _ that would regret leaving well enough alone, especially in regards to your own family. I'm sure your dad didn't mean to do whatever he did to you. That's not how family works.”

 

“He almost hurt someone that I care about and in the process I lost everything,” He choked out, but didn't tear his gaze away from her. “That might not be how most families work but mine has never followed the means of normalcy,” a pause and then, “And I'm definitely not the boy I used to be.”

 

Marinette highly doubted that. Adrien was still good, he was certainly still kind, Marinette being at his side instead of grappling for the courage to come into the hotel was proof enough to a point. 

 

For a fleeting moment, it reminded her of someone else she knew. Chat always had a way with words so positive you could never see his inner turmoil. He'd always been the one with a pun at the ready and a steady belief in everyone at his side. It was his strength, his reassurance that allowed her to carry on as ladybug for so long. If he were there, he'd know exactly what to say to Adrien to make him feel better. The thought sent her heart careening painfully from her chest. 

 

“We all make mistakes, Adrien. Some much bigger than others but we should always find it within ourselves to forgive. It's never too late to make amends.”

 

“You don't understand… he's not… I was… She didn't,” he stammered out. What could he possibly be trying to explain? With so many parties involved in the sentence alone, Marinette could tell she was in over her head and yet couldn't help but want to help. Even in awkward pubescent adolescence she'd never seen him at such a loss for words.  “She didn't deserve what happened to her and I'm not sure if it's his fault or mine.”

 

“Who… who was she?” Marinette dared to ask. They were facing one another almost completely. The combination of their closeness and his confessions was a heady intoxicant. 

 

“She was my-” 

 

The blaring chime of the elevator sounded before he could finish, breaking the spell between them completely.  _ His what?  _ Marinette couldn't begin to fathom the ending to that sentence. Adrien seemed to remember himself, shook his head twice, and then led them to file onto the elevator. She didn't have the courage to ask him again, especially now when their linked arms felt looser at her side. Did she push him too far? 

 

“I'm sorry, Marinette. This talk is much too dark for the celebration we're supposed to be having,” he apologized, tucking his chin into his coat absentmindedly. 

 

“Celebration?”

 

He grinned a megawatt smile that warmed her all the way through before turning to her once more.

 

“The reunion,” he reminded her as if the elevator bringing them up to her impending doom wasn't enough. “Everyone will be so happy to see that you made it.” 

 

“I don't know….” Marinette trailed off. Since he only knew a vague amount about their classmates and what they were doing now, she doubted he would know what anyone really thought of her.  She couldn't imagine anyone was feeling friendly with her when her goodbye was such a cold-shouldered one. “I didn't exactly leave on the best of terms,” she hesitated before attempting to lighten the mood by adding, “I don't think Chloé has ever been happy to see me in her life.”

 

Adrien tilted his head back and laughed, the sound warm enough to feel it thrumming in her bloodstream. She was glad to have turned his mood around, if only for a moment. 

 

“I don't think Chloé has ever been happy in general,” Adrien agreed. “Besides, you'd be surprised how much time has changed everyone.” He winked at her then, knocking the wind straight from her lungs. Skies, this elevator was small. And warm. And  _ intimate. “ _ I mean she was the one who put this whole shindig together. Maybe she's grown into herself and is trying to make amends,” he shrugged. 

 

As the elevator made it's slow ascent to their destination they remained in a peaceful silence. Marinette decided she was glad to have come after all, even more thankful to have run into Adrien. Not just for the normal reasons either; he was giving her the strength to face all of these people and perhaps make some amends of her own. She could go back to America with a lighter weight pressing against her chest, maybe even a fuller heart. Marinette found she was almost excited.

 

That was, until the doors opened. 

 

Flashing neon lights spilled into the small elevator shaft as the door cracked open until it filled the space entirely. Her panic reorientated itself in the pit of her stomach, a steady dread following with it.  The music wasn't blaring as Marinette had originally assumed, the bass was just turned so that you could feel the pulse of the music through everything. It was however, loud enough to cover their arrival. She felt lucky as no one turned their way, as they all continued dancing, talking, and eating. 

 

She pressed close to Adrien as they exited the safety of the elevator. All the warmth she had built up through their encounter seeped out of her in a rush. Her bones felt hollow, as if she'd turned to dust if anyone breathed on her the wrong way. The lights and sounds of the party began blurring together until Marinette was forced to close her eyes to fight against it. 

 

Adrien, noticing her rising panic pulled them into a shadowed alcove in the wall away from the guests. She hadn't even gotten a good look at the party or the people in attendance and now all she was seeing was his stupid, beautiful face. The golden flecks in his eyes were prominent as his brows furrowed together in worry.

 

“What's wrong, Marinette? What are you afraid of?” he asked but all she could do was stare. How he knew that she was afraid was beyond her. No, all she could think about was the concerned look on his face. It was touching, though she was certain he'd be doing this for just about anybody if they needed it. Sharing breath again, Marinette could feel her head going light and woozy.

 

Still, she found herself responding.

 

“When I said that I didn't leave on the best note, that was a bit of an understatement,” she explained, nibbling her lower lip. “I never told anyone I was going. I just kind of packed up and… left.”

 

But instead of the indignation she expected to find on his face, she found only understanding. He nodded as if answering her silent bewilderment. “A fresh start.”

 

“Something like that,” she breathed. Their close contact seemed to dawn on him as a sudden redness infiltrated his cheek bones. Still, he didn't make to move away from her. 

 

“Marinette, any of these people would be lucky to know you now, as they were lucky to know you way back when. We're adults now, we understand that…” he paused thoughtfully. “I think we all understand that life gets in the way sometimes. Hell, half these people probably wish they'd moved away when they had the chance.” He smiled reassuringly. “Besides, someone very wise once told me that it's never too late to make amends,” he said with a wink and a flick of her nose. “And if anyone gives you any trouble, just come find me. I've got a car parked outside, we can make a quick getaway.” The smile on his face was mischievous but the look in his eye was genuine. He truly would give her an escape route if she needed it. 

 

Before Marinette could think better of it, she found herself wrapping her arms around his waist, face pressed tightly into his chest. He chuckled, the sound sending vibrations through her as it echoed through his ribcage. 

 

“Thank you, Adrien. Really,” she smiled though she knew he couldn't see it. Mustering every ounce of gusto she had, Marinette raised up on her tiptoes (skies, he'd somehow gotten a lot taller) and pressed a small kiss to his cheek. He looked at her then, his face the portrait of dumbstruck astonishment. She allowed herself exactly five seconds to enjoy his gentle warmth, before pushing out of his old and scurrying towards the fray. 

 

“Don't mention it,” Adrien croaked in a daze before she was out of earshot. She looked over her shoulder in time to see his hand slowly reach up to touch the spot her lips had vacated, still facing the wall as though too stunned to move. 

 

Satisfied with herself, Marinette clung to the little bit of spine that she could summon, the courage that Adrien gifted her and made her way into the party. Though no one paid her much mind, everyone far to into their own conversations to look her way, she did recognize many a face in her surroundings. 

 

Alix was found chatting with Kim and Ivan by the snacks. Rose and Juleka (together, as always) were present front and center of Nino’s booth as he animatedly kept the beats coming. And there was Chloé,  _ smiling,  _ actually laughing at something Sabrina had said. Marinette found herself smiling too. While at first glance it seemed as though not much had changed, she knew, just by the way everyone was talking and dancing and actually excited to see one another that far more had changed than she was prepared for. Life had certainly gone on in her absence and she was happy to see everyone thriving in their own ways.

 

Due to her panic attack upon stumbling out of the elevators, Marinette hadn't noticed the tastefully appointed decorations. Luckily, the seizure-inducing lighting was not a theme of the party, they were in fact coming from Nino’s booth that faced the elevators . Otherwise it was mostly floating lanterns, twinkle lights, and tule. A whole lot of tule. Marinette would have to coach Chloé on fabric diversity if such a moment ever came to face. 

 

“I leave you alone for five years and the furthest you've gotten with Adrien is a peck on the cheek?” a voice drawled from behind her. Utterly spooked, Marinette spun around to find Alya tucked in one of the big, cushioned chairs. She almost looked as though she were meditating, as her legs crossed, elbows resting on her knees only for her hands to clasp together for a safe spot to rest her chin. Her eyes were closed, but Marinette had the distinct impression that if she did try to run, Alya would know regardless. And of course, what did she have to lose?

 

Alya was as radiant and vivacious as she  remembered. Her burnt orange ombre hair was sprawled around her, framing her bronzed skin in an elegant mane. Her dress was beyond stellar, starting with a v-neck halter top and ending in long, loose flowing fabric. The evening dress was an off white color, but contained several red and orange flowers heavily concentrated at the top that spread out the further the dress went. And though she couldn't see them yet, she knew when Alya opened her eyes, they would be warm, hazel, and sparkling. 

 

This was an important confrontation, the only one that truly mattered if she was being honest with herself. She would have to tread carefully, tiptoe the fragile line between them. Alya was giving her the time of day, that was something at least, but Marinette would have to work hard to put them back together again. 

 

Alya slowly cracked one accusatory eye open and Marinette found herself flinching back from that glare. Though she was only slightly taller than Marinette, Alya had a way of making herself seem larger just by the look on her face. Already Marinette could tell that she was still fierce and bold and everything else she'd ever admired in her best friend. Except now it all seemed tenfold when directed at her. 

 

“I'm very mad at you,” Alya clarified, her look becoming somehow more intent before relaxing completely. “But it's so good to see you that all I can think about is how bad I want to hug you. There's going to be a time, a place, and a conversation but I suppose we can postpone your groveling and actually enjoy the party together.” Both of her eyes were now fully open and Marinette only found love and patience reflecting back at her. She sagged in relief, nearly falling to her knees. 

 

Before Alya could stand to greet her formally, Marinette ran to her side, wrapping her arms around her middle. As Alya was still seated in the chair, Marinette found herself on her knees afterall. Her eyes immediately welled up as Alya's arms swept her into a tight embrace. 

 

“I'm so sorry, Alya,” Marinette blurted, a few tears slipping from her eyes no matter how hard she tried to hold them back. 

 

“I know,” she sympathized. “And I'll let you figure out how to make it up to me, but cut the water works for now, yeah?” Alya reasoned, though Marinette could see the silver beginning to line her own eyes. “Why cry when I can catch you up on five years worth of gossip instead?”

 

And so they did. As the party continued on around them, Alya and Marinette fell into an easy conversation. She did indeed fill her in on what had been going on with everyone. Alya was doing freelance journalism but worked part time with her mother here in the hotel kitchen to help pay the bills. Rose and Juleka had finally admitted to one another that there was more to their relationship than just friendship (Oh and Alya and Nino were doing great enough in that department as well). Chloé had become an actual decent human being, though she still had her snobby tendencies. 

 

She seemed to have a story for everyone; well everyone except for the one person she was most interested in hearing about, Alya not included, of course. While she desperately wanted to ask about Adrien, she wouldn't sour the moment with her wild fantasies. Marinette was just thrilled to be speaking with Alya again. 

 

Marinette filled Alya in on all her happenings through the years, how the fashion industry in America differed from the one in Paris, what designs she was currently working on, and how her place in New York was hardly big enough to be considered a home. Alya certainly had a few things to say about that, though Marinette kept her housing minimal on purpose. There was less to worry about that way. 

 

They watched the people come and go, occasionally chiming into the conversations around them. Chloé even included them in her rounds of greetings and accommodating her guests. Marinette had no idea how much she missed this, needed it, until it was happening. Talking freely with fellow peers on nothing of importance, not caring what she was eating or who overheard what she was saying. She found she was happy to have made the trip to see them, even if only for a fleeting moment. This night had not started as she expected and every time she opened her mouth to speak, it became a little easier. Already she felt a little lighter, happier, and more centered.

 

That was until Alya cleared her throat when they were alone once more, snagging Marinette's full attention. She didn't know what Alya might have to say, but judging by the mischievous sparkle in her eyes, she could bet that whatever it was, it would not be good. 

 

“So,” Alya began, her look shifting from side-to-side as if the bit of gossip she was bestowing upon Marinette was the world's juiciest morsel. “I got an invitation to this thing and I'll be honest, I wasn't sure if I wanted to come or not.” Well, at least that made two of them. “But then Chloé sent out these class newspaper things with them.” Alya pulled said paper from from her purse, carefully unfolding it but keeping it covered in her lap. Marinette had also gotten one but hadn't dared to study it just in case she decided not to go after-all. No use in learning about all her former classmates achievements, engagements, and new ventures if she wasn't there to care about them, right?  “I found something… interesting,” Alya whispered ominously.  

 

Marinette silently cursed herself for not reading it's contents. She could have been much better prepared for whatever bomb Alya was about to drop on her. Suddenly the impending doom bubbled back up in her stomach. 

 

“I think ladybug is going to be here tonight,” Alya paused for effect before slamming the reunion pamphlet down on the table. Well, that was certainly news to ladybug. “And I intend to find out who she is.” Alya pointed a manicured finger at the supposed evidence. 

 

Everything froze. Marinette’s breath stopped short in her lungs. Her heart sputtered before stopping altogether, stomach dropping into her feet as the panic overtook her fully. Down in a little box at the bottom of the back page was a short sentence. A message with only one recipient in mind and only one possible sender. 

  
_ Bugaboo, come find me in the place we last spoke.  _


	2. Unhappy Endings Pt. 1

**A/N:**

   You all are amazing. I didn't expect the response I received and I am hella grateful to you all for your kind comments! Truly, thank you :) 

Anyways, I did receive a question about an updating schedule and I would love to have one, but I am a mother of a three year old toddler boy (who I may have taught how to pound it ;)). Some days I get a lot done, others I spend it just barely hanging on. I will try to update at least every week or two though. Posting this now and I'm already about a quarter through the next chapter (spoiler alert, it's in Adrien’s POV), so it hopefully won't be too long before another update.

Oh and for anyone who cares about the playlist and has spotify, here's a link to the playlist. I'll update the playlist as I update chapters!

 

[ https://open.spotify.com/user/itwzpaxbiq25kt8uf4uez3ggh/playlist/1BDnDcYzQJZzccp4hwsKzo?si=NLd-GAjvQqyrSbaEYb76-w ](https://open.spotify.com/user/itwzpaxbiq25kt8uf4uez3ggh/playlist/1BDnDcYzQJZzccp4hwsKzo?si=NLd-GAjvQqyrSbaEYb76-w)

 

On to the chapter, here's some sad Chat. My little croissant needs a hug. Sorry if it's repetitive, I tried to move some things around the best I could. Hope you enjoy!

 

xXx

 

Coffins - Misterwives

 

Bring it On - The Gaslight Anthem

 

Love of my Life - Queen

 

Everything We Had - The Academy is…

 

Wolves (You Got Me) - DREAMERS

 

xXx

  
  


Five Years Ago…

 

_ Chat Noir wasn't sure why Ladybug had selected the roof of  Le Grand París to meet when there were so many nicer, more romantic places to have this conversation. But it wasn't the when or tbe where that really mattered, it was the  _ what.  _ She hadn't explicitly given him a reason, but he could tell from her voice alone that it was grave. And so he was left to wait and allow his imagination to run rampant in the meantime.  _

 

_ Would Ladybug finally feel comfortable revealing her true identity to him now that the threat was out of the way? The thought both thrilled and frightened him. After spending so much of his time wanting and wondering, would he get his conclusion? His happy ending following the years of fighting at her side and loving her with everything that he had.  _

 

_ In addition to whatever it was that she wanted to discuss, Chat had some things he needed to confess as well. Though he'd already done so more times than he cared to admit, he needed to tell her once more how deeply his feelings for her ran. That he loved her. That she was wonderful, smart, brave, talented, and everything anyone should ever wish to be. Countless times negative emotions had made the citizen of Paris vulnerable to Hawkmoth’s control. Each time Hawkmoth had taken advantage of the people as a means to his own end. Ladybug had answered every single call for aide, had never hesitated even when the odds were bleak. She had a solution to everything, perhaps she could come up with something for him too. He could confide in her, trust her as all of Paris had. Explain the complexity of the situation regarding his personal relationship to the man behind Hawkmoth’s armor. _

 

_ A situation he hadn't let himself consider too closely, considering how close he was to the situation. No, he couldn't face these things alone. He needed her for that, more than she'd ever know.  _

_ Not that Ladybug knew Hawkmoth’s true identity or who Chat was in relation to him. She'd been moment's away from transforming back when they'd finally knocked him unconscious and secured him. She'd trusted Chat enough to let him figure out what to do from there. He wasn't sure he could ever tell anyone what happened that day atop the Eiffel Tower. Excluding Ladybug of course, she was always the exception to every one of his rules. But what would happen now? _

 

_ They had defeated Hawkmoth. What was left for Paris’ superheroes when there were no foes left to fight? Chat wasn't sure, but he assumed he was about to have a lengthy discussion about it with his partner. _

 

_ Repressing the despondent thoughts to the best of his abilities, Chat shuffled from foot to foot before checking the time again. Surely something was wrong with his watch as time had never ticked away so torturously slow before. Not even all those hours he'd been locked in his room with nothing but the piano and his Chinese lessons to keep him company, which was really saying something. Still, she would be here soon. Ladybug was never late, without good reason anyhow.  _

 

_ How could he convince her that he was worthy of her time?  Though she'd been the one who'd saved them time and time again, that he was capable of taking care of her? That he would spend his life trying, no matter the cost? Most importantly, what would he do if he couldn't? If she didn't want him? Chat’s anxiety was relentless enough to send him pacing. He would feel better once she arrived.  _

 

_ As though his thoughts had summoned her, Chat watched as a spec on the skyline vaulted towards him. With the speed and dexterity in which the spec moved, it could only be one girl; the ever present brightness in his otherwise dreary life. His happy ending. _

 

_ Chat’s heart pounded in his chest as she drew nearer, as if there were a chain that stretched from her and latched itself to the inside of his chest. He felt the bridge between them, something so palpable, that he knew it wasn't something he'd just made up. It was real. That they both felt it. Whether she would admit it or not. And that was the ultimate question, wasn't it?  _

 

_ Finally she reached their predetermined destination, somersaulting in the air and landing firmly on the balls of her feet in front of him. With a flick of the wrist, her yoyo retracted and was back at her side in the blink of an eye. His breath caught when she looked him over fully, the yearning tightening harshly in his chest.  _

 

_ There was a strong part of him suddenly that wished he'd just come as Adrien, get it all out in the open before she had a chance to protest. Even if he didn't get to know who she was in return, at least he'd shown her his true self. He touched his ring in silent reflex, pondering the pros and cons of switching back right in front of her. What would she do?  How would she react? _

 

_ In the end though, he knew himself better than that. He wouldn't risk anything where Ladybug was concerned, couldn't imagine making the wrong move and having everything disintegrate around him. He refused not to take her feelings into thought and hurt her in the process.  _

 

_ “We did it, Chat,” she said with no preamble, interrupting his internal deliberation. He beheld her in all her alluring glory. Aces, she was perfect. “He's truly gone.” The hollowness in her smile made him wonder if she was having as many doubts as he was. Whatever was left for them now, he didn't know, but now that she was here all of his earlier doubts crumbled away into black dust.  _

 

_ Without taking the time to consider his actions, Chat closed the distance between them before wrapping his arms around her fully. Her face was crushed into his chest as he palmed the nape of her neck, tucking his nose into the top of her hair. She laughed against the fabric of his suit, the action soothing some jagged piece of him. This was home, the only one that ever mattered.  _

 

_ “Hello, silly kitty,” she giggled before freeing a limb so she could flick his nose. The sound in contrast to her original smile was stark, so much more vibrant and alive than before. It was comforting enough that the already overwhelming feeling swirling in his lower stomach swelled once more. Would he ever get used the effect she had on him? He only hoped he had the chance to find out.  _

 

_ “Milady,” he greeted with a nod. Though she tried to hide it, a small smile played at her lips. Her nose scrunched in mock irritation.  _

 

_ “You'd think after all these years, I'd learn to ignore your nicknames,” she teased, facing Chat in their embrace. “Or that they'd at least grow on me.” _

 

_ He inevitably studied her face as she beamed up at him, couldn't hide the infatuation from taking over his features either. Her full lips parted as a pink blush blossomed beneath her mask. Ladybug’s clear blue eyes widened enough that he could see himself reflected. He stumbled backwards defeatedly as he comprehended the panic he read in her gaze. He wouldn't deny her the space she so clearly required, no matter that every step away from her was rendering him further distraught.  _

 

_ “Chat,”  she breathed, slowly reaching a hand out as if to comfort him only to put it back at her side a moment later. Chat’s own hands closed to fists in dismay and longing.  _

 

_ “What did you want to talk about, bugaboo?” He tried again with a half-assed smile. Ladybug only frowned without responding. He had to figure out a way to lean the tables in his favor; so far, this was not going well but he knew he'd go down swinging. Whatever it took. As he always had. Chat cleared his throat, effectively shattering her contemplation.  _

 

_ “I don't know exactly,” she mumbled after realizing the silence had stretched on too long. “I just feel like… I don't know, that I guess we should talk about all of this.” _

 

_ “All of what?” Chat asked hopefully. Maybe he read her reaction wrong. Perhaps she was nervous because she was having the same insecurities that were plaguing him. Chat observed as Ladybug wrung her hands, she was all fidgets and anxieties, which was both comforting and terrifying.  _

 

_ “I guess the future,” she fretted. “What happens now? I mean Hawkmoth is gone which means the akumas are gone too. Which is great, don't get me wrong,” Ladybug clarified. Chat discovered all over again how cute her yammering could be, though he figured she was snowballing into something bigger. He wasn't sure if he was ready, yet she prevailed on anyhow, unaware of his crippling fears lurking within “But if Paris doesn't need us anymore than what exactly do we do now? Obviously take our Kwamies back to Master Fu but we ourselves as people, what do we do?” She asked, though he wasn't sure if the question was rhetorical or not so he just remained in silent contemplation.  _

 

_ She had a point, something he hadn't yet considered. To give his Kwami back where it belonged would be the right thing, but how could he part with Plagg? Aside from Ladybug, he'd been the sole source of company Adrien had for half a decade now. What would it be like to not have loads of camembert on hand at all times? What would he do without Plagg’s rare words of wisdom? What would he do when he couldn't be Chat Noir anymore? He'd been doing this for so long that it felt like losing a part of himself, like losing an entire limb. He didn't know if he could muster the strength it would require to give his ring back and never second guess that decision.  _

 

_ Chat remembered himself, snapping out of his concerns and catching Ladybug eyeing him thoughtfully in the process. She looked guilty for all of a moment before mastering her expression into one of neutrality. They were definitely hedging uncharted territory. Over the years, they'd spent a lot of time together, but rarely like this without the threat of switching back hovering over them. Typically they were busy saving Paris and now, well, he wasn't sure.  _

 

_ “I've spent so long being Ladybug and worrying about all of them,” she admitted, motioning against the horizon. “I don't know what to do now. I don't know what my life means if I'm not Ladybug at least part time.” That she would confide these things in Chaton only made him want her more.  _

 

_ “I’m trying to figure that out myself, Milady, and I've been coming up blank but I'm open to any ideas,” he reassured before waggling his eyebrows suggestively at her. She swatted at him from her spot at his side and he could have kissed her just for the moment of normalcy in an otherwise bleak conversation. “There isn't exactly a support group around town we could get in touch with. I suppose we could figure it out... together,” he suggested after a moment.  _

 

_ Chat wasn't sure how she would react, maybe shocked or perhaps confused but he didn't expect it when she only lowered her gaze to the pavement below their feet. The panic set in and all he wanted to do was anything besides face the rejection that was clearly coming his way. Before, he would have been okay with it, would have walked away with heavy shoulders but his heart would have been light in that he could always try again tomorrow. But this was it, his last chance, and he was blowing it.  _

 

_ “I just meant we could be friends after this, bugaboo,” Chat quickly tried to recover. “If we return our Kwamies, we can figure out the logistics of a new life together. Look, wouldn't it be the right move to confide in each other when nobody else knows about the double life we've been leading over the last few years?” He wouldn't admit to her that he had literally no one else to speak with. About this or anything else for that matter. She was it, the last solid in the wild rapids that had become his life and he could only watch as it all slipped through his fingertips despite his protests.  _

 

_ “Chat,” Ladybug began but it felt like the first nail in his coffin. “We can do that. Skies, I'd love to do that. Know who you are under that mask, navigate the after with you, the whole thing. You have to know though, Chat, that I still can't,” a pause so long that she could definitely hear his heart splitting while awaiting the blow. It was all too loud in his ears. “I can't give you what you need.” Tears glistened at the bottom of her eyelids. He wasn't sure if he was even breathing.  _

 

_ “I know this isn't what you wanted to hear and I don't want to hurt you, but I have to be honest with you, Chat,”  she professed but his walls were already caving in around him. She went on, but he couldn't hear it, already too locked in on himself to bother with anything more than keeping upright. She truly didn't want him after everything they'd been through together. He didn't know what that said about him, but he was positive it was nothing good.  _

 

_ Ladybug had paused again, looking for some indication of whether or not she should continue or if he wished her away.  _ Never the latter,  _ he thought bitterly.  _

 

_ “I understand,” he lied but it was easier this way. He would give her up if that was what she truly wanted. His lady deserved the world and if Chat couldn't be the one to give it to her then he wouldn't stand in the way of someone else doing the job.  _

 

_ “I'm sorry,” she insisted. “We can still meet each other if you'd like. Talk it all out over tea and croissants, go to Master Fu and let him help us redefine our lives, whatever and however you want. I just needed to tell you before we went any further.” _

 

_ Chat realized then what a bad idea it would be for them to know each other's true identities. If he discovered who she really was in her everyday life, Adrien knew in his heart that he would follow her to the depths of hell and back. He wouldn't be able to keep himself from checking on her, from making sure whoever it was that held her heart didn't crush it, that he made her as happy as possible.  _

 

_ It would take everything Chat had left to deny her of something she wanted. Despite her not loving him as much as he did, he felt in his core that she wanted to understand, know who he was when he wasn't in black spandex and cat ears. He wanted more than anything to give that to her but if he did, he wouldn't be able to keep himself whole. He was familiar enough with Ladybug to know that she wouldn't wish that kind of pain on him, especially if she discovered just how deep this particular hurt went. _

 

_ The sad truth of it all was that he hadn't even needed to tell her how he felt, in fact he had yet to utter one word regarding his love. It was abundantly prominent in everything he did as Chat Noir. They understood each other intimately, knew this conversation was imminent between them. It had to be why she had sounded so serious over the phone earlier. Though she didn't want to, Ladybug realized she was going to have to break his heart. He should have seen it coming. _

 

_ Chat finally met her gaze, ready for the free fall over the edge of his sanity. _

 

_ “If we can't be together, then I don't want to know who you are,” Chat confessed before swallowing, though his throat was dry and his tongue may as well have been sandpaper. “I couldn't…. I don't think I could keep myself away.” _

 

_ A single tear rolled down her cheek. Out of sheer necessity to touch her, he reached out to catch it before the wetness could hit the pavement. _

 

_ “Chat,” she choked out. “I don't mean to hurt you. I don't want to toy with your feelings. You mean… you are everything to me, but my heart,” a pause so she could release a shaky breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob. “It belongs to someone else.” _

 

_ Chat nodded, not knowing how to keep the fracture from shattering his heart completely. But he could hold it together, be strong for her now so that she could be at peace with her decision; so she didn't start her new life with his feelings weighing heavy on her shoulders.  _

 

_ “It's okay,” he soothed, cupping her face while lightly stroking his thumb along her cheekbones. He wanted to coax this hurt from her. They were his miserable feelings, she shouldn't have to feel bad for not reciprocating. He didn't blame her. “Really, Bugaboo. No need to worry about me, I'll be purrfect. I swear it.” Chat grinned, though the smile didn't reach his eyes. Ladybug half cringed, half giggled under her breath.  _

 

_ “Leave it to you to be able to slide a pun into perhaps the most important conversation we've ever had.” Her laugh was a small, pitiful thing but it set his heart to bursting. She wiped her nose on the back of her suit sleeve before turning her big bluebell eyes his way. He could lose himself in her stare, a lonely star in the endless abyss of space.  _

 

_ But he wouldn't. She didn't want him back. At least not enough to let the lucky bastard go.  _

 

_ “Chat, the last thing I'd ever want to do is hurt you. I don't want this to be the way we say goodbye, but I don't know what else to do,”  she fretted, closing her eyes and sighing in resignation. His hands dropped down at his sides as the realization dawned. He knew that look, had known what it meant because he'd seen it a million times before on her brilliant face. She'd made up her mind, whether either of them liked it or not.  _

 

_ This would be the painful part, then.  _

 

_ “ I can't give you what you need. It wouldn't be fair to either of us. I'm so sorry, Chat,” she sobbed, the tears sliding down her mask and running freely astride her cheeks.  _

 

_ He had the urge to reach out and wipe away those tears as well, but thought better of it. He closed his fist, the absence of contact making his fingertips prickle. He was certain he'd rather drown than have her leave this rooftop thinking he'd hurt forever because of her. Even if it was the case, he'd have to make her believe otherwise. _

 

_ “We've fought and bled and suffered enough, milady,” Chat comforted, forcing the words from his lips. “We deserve our own happy endings. We earned that, at least. And if yours isn't with me, then I can change mine, find a new way. I'll just be happy knowing that you got yours.” He tried to make his words as sincere and reassuring as possible, but he knew his lady probably wouldn't buy it. At least he could say he tried, though that was all mounting into a whole lot of nothing.  _

 

_ “I do love you, Chat,” she said instead of responding to his pathetic prose. “ I know that doesn't make any of this any easier, but I do. It's just…” Ladybug trailed off in consideration for a moment.  _

 

_ “Not enough,” Chat finished for her before she could muster the courage for the words. He nodded in understanding, no matter how terribly he ached.  _

 

_ “Those don't feel like the right words either,” she groaned in frustration as a few more tears trickled down her cheeks. “Maybe there won't ever be the words to describe it…  _ this _ , whatever it is between us. It's something Chat but when you've had your heart set on something for so long, it's not easy to give up on it… even if it may never happened,” the last part was barely above a whisper and Ladybug closed her eyes again, but this time in defeat.  _

 

_ He knew she was referring to Chat, that it was between them in which nothing would ever happen. Perhaps Ladybug was using herself as a decoy, because what idiot wouldn't give  _ her  _ the time of day. It was beyond him. No, it wasn't a possibility. She was only trying to spare his feelings.  _

 

_ At least the hurt was familiar enough that Chat knew how to coddle it, he just needed to get out of here. But leaving meant never seeing her again and he didn't know which festering wound to tend to first, which would leave more damage. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe, didn't dare to believe this would be the end of them. That would be the fatal blow, the one that would leave him beyond repair.  _

 

_ But then her hand was on his chest and she was leaning up on tiptoes before pressing her lips to his cheek. They were warm and soft, so provocative that Chat had to close his eyes against the onslaught. He wanted to pull her close in the safety of his embrace where he knew she'd never leave him. Where they could be together and everything would be right in the world.  _

 

_ But that was never the case for Adrien. Lady luck never paid him any attention, he was always grasping at the small strands of happiness that flitted in and out of his life. This was just one more of those things, or so he tried to tell himself.  _

 

_ “I'm so sorry,”  Ladybug murmured, cupping his cheek once before stepping back and hugging her arms across her own chest. As if the pain and distress of it all were suffocating her too. “You were always better and braver than you gave yourself credit for. You were the friend at my side for so many unknown dangers and I can never express what that means.” Chat finally found the strength to turn his head, to pretend as though she weren't truly speaking these words. If only he could wash it all away in a wave of glistening little red bugs. _

 

_ This day was ending so much differently than he expected. He could all but see his expectations plummeting, an empty hopelessness seeping in to quickly take its place.  _

 

_ Ladybug began backing away from him slowly, the tension around them stretching taught in the process. Chat knew this was it. Had known and still felt leaden like the stoneheart statues that began popping up around town all those years ago. What had started it all.  _

 

_ “In this life or the next, I will see you again,” she vowed upon nearing the edge of the building. All he could was watch as ladybug took the last few steps until she was standing on the ledge, the sun just starting to sink on the horizon casting her hair a black so dark that blue shown through. “Goodbye, Chat.” _

  
_ And with a flick of her wrist, she was gone once more. Already like she never existed in the first place. The tension holding him in place vanished and Chat crumpled to the ground. He didn't rise again until the moon was well overhead.  _


	3. Chasing Ghosts

**A/N:**

        Hellllllllooooo! You all are awesome, thanks for keeping up with this whole thing. This chapter is pretty long and I spent a lot of time reworking it, but I'm pretty satisfied with the way it turned out. Let me know your thoughts!

As always, happy reading and thanks for the support <3

 

xXx

 

Circulation - Hotel Mira

 

Silence - Marshmello, Khalid (my favorite is the Illenium remix, but the original is great too)

 

Together We'll Ring In the New Year - Motion City Soundtrack

 

Growing Pains- Coin

 

Dancing on Quicksand - Bad Suns 

 

Silly Boy- The Blue Van

 

xXx

 

Red. Everything was red. Anything that meant something to him, anyhow. Lately, it was all he could see. The anger that clouded his judgement and kept him just at the brink of sleep every night. The blood on his hands, the blood on his father's hands that begged the question if they were more alike than Adrien cared to admit. A wound he had not yet touched. The color of the mask that framed her eyes, chased him into his dreams when he somehow found sleep, and haunted him every waking moment of every single day to the point of absurdity.

Red. The color of Marinette’s dress that she no doubt designed herself. Aces, she looked spectacular. He hadn't remembered just how beautiful she was until she'd thrown back her hood, and it had struck him stupid. Her off-shoulder neckline exposed a few areas that he had to remind himself not to linger on every few minutes. The train of the dress spread like waves lapping on floor but not before clinging tightly to her backside. And as if that weren't enough, a slit up the side of the dress exposed her pale leg from ankle to thigh. Her big updo bun left her shoulders utterly exposed. He'd wanted to touch his lips to those shoulders the moment she shrugged off her jacket. Honestly, she wasn't playing fair. 

He wasn't stupid enough to believe that she'd done any of it for him, not after she'd confessed her love for him and he'd shrugged it off like some small thing. Back then though, as hardly more than a ghost, he'd barely been able to function properly; going through the motions was hard enough as it were, he didn't feel like dragging anyone else down with him. He didn't hold it to or against her, but aces did he wish she would hold it against him. 

It’d been a really long time since he'd looked at anyone like that, if he were being honest with himself. Not since Ladybug. Not to say that he hadn't been intimate with anyone before, he still had desires, but it never ran any deeper than the surface. And he was okay with that, or so he told himself. 

So he was surprised to discover that seeing Marinette had been the highlight of his evening thus far. Adrien hadn't expected her to travel the distance for an event so silly and quaint, but he was glad that she made the trip, nonetheless. He wouldn't admit to her that he himself had spent the better part of his week deciding if it'd even be worth it to show his face or that he'd used up most of the afternoon pacing his bedroom to steady his nerves. He could have just come as Chat, posted up on the roof to await his lady. In the end though, he decided Adrien should start making some appearances, if for no other reason then keeping him from suspicion. He'd been careful about keeping Chat from the private eye but no plan was full-proof and tonight would be a good way of being seen as Adrien and Chat separately, but in the same place, effectively keeping him under the radar. 

He had been close, so close to disclosing who he was to Marinette, worse even how his failings had overcome him. He wasn't sure why it felt safe to share his doings with someone who probably hadn't given him a second thought after he'd denied her; but Marinette had always been so kind, steady, and caring. If not her, then who else could he share this darkness with? But spilling his secrets to her after all they'd been through didn't seem like the brightest of ideas. Not that he'd had too many of those lately.

Which led to him waiting atop the same roof, continuously searching the horizon for the same bug that he had all those years prior. He had little hope that she'd show, had known it was a shot in the dark, but he found he couldn't help himself. 

During his time of fighting akumatized citizens by her side, Adrien had deduced that Ladybug was around his age, that (thanks to Alya's innecesant digging in the matter) she probably went to their school, and that she had at least one friend amongst his former classmates. Both Chloé and Marinette were suspected of being close with the superhero herself, but Adrien was also inclined to believe that Ladybug may have filled her favorite reporter in on her true identity. The LadyBlog had been as quiet as a wasteland since the very day that she had told Chat goodbye. It was all a little… suspicious and he couldn't help but be skeptical. 

So he took his shot in the form of a newspaper clipping. Sneaking into where Chloé had set up shop for her edits of the paper may have been tough for Adrien, but it was a piece of cake for Chat. He hoped that if Ladybug was in fact not in his graduating class that one of her minions would pass along the message. The newspaper was released about three weeks prior to the actual reunion, leaving plenty of time for someone to find the message, spread the rumor, and let the story unfold as it may. Again, a long shot but the only chance he had in possibly seeing her again. 

Adrien had made it exactly twenty-two minutes after Marinette had left his side before he succumbed to the urge of transforming into Chat Noir. An hour or so early from when he expected her to show, but he was so riddled with nerves that he couldn't help himself. More and more lately he'd felt most comfortable facing life as Chat than Adrien. Adrien was a dumb boy with a stark belief that everyone had some good in them, whereas Chat knew better. He discovered first hand that it was the people you least expected that were handily capable of doing the most terrible damage.

But those were the least of his worries now. Chat exhaled through his nose as he continued his pacing on the poolhouse dome. If it were carpet he was treading instead of the glass and iron, it was undeniable that he would have worn a hole right through it by now. The suspense had him on an even more narrow edge than usual, but this was something he needed to do, or attempt to at the very least. He needed closure. His last ditch attempt at it, anyhow.

When the door leading to the terrace opened, Chat could have sworn his heart stopped dead in his chest. It took everything he had and then some to remain rooted to the spot. He shouldn't be this antsy, not when there was a party full of people a few feet below, it may as well have been anyone. Still, he swore he could feel her presence drawing nearer, a sensation so alien to him that he felt ill. 

Chat hadn't let himself consider what it would be like to see Ladybug again. No, he hadn't gotten that far. The idea came to him and he had just… acted on it. But now that he was there and facing the idea of seeing her again, the old panic began creeping back. How would she react to his silly antics? Would she be happy to see him?

A flash of dark hair and red fabric had his breath catching in his throat. Had she really come? But as his focus narrowed in, Chat registered a bare face where a mask should have been and her naked fingers when they were normally clothed in a stretchy red suit. Not Ladybug, then. 

He was surprised to find a lack of disappointment as he watched Marinette edge into view. Air finally filtered its way back into his lungs before he straightened to observe her movements. She casually paced to the ledge, resting her forearms on the cement railings as she gazed at the Paris streets far below. He wasn't sure what she was doing up here, separated from the party and so delectably alone, but he discovered he was glad to have Marinette to himself. 

“You can come down,” she called out, not bothering to turn her attention to any particular spot. Was she talking to him? She couldn't possibly know that he was atop the dome as he went to great lengths to ensure no one had followed him, but who else could she be speaking with if that was the case? “Here kitty, kitty,” she taunted over her shoulder.

Well that certainly left little room for doubt. 

After a moment's hesitation, Chat leaped down from his spot, landing firmly on the pavement. Marinette didn't so much as look his way when he decidedly joined her at the railing.

“Good evening,” Chat greeted, a cat-and-mouse grin plastered on his face. 

“Hello, Chat Noir,” she replied, pulling at the loose threads of her coat sleeves. At last, she looked him over fully. Her eyes widened briefly, a look of wild shock succumbing her features as she stumbled back a step. She regained her composure as quickly as it had left her before turning back to the bustling city streets. Chat didn't know what or who she expected to be next to her when she was the one who'd called him out. It was odd and unsettling, but he tried not to let it linger.

“Do you mind to enlighten me on how you knew I was up there?” He asked, scratching the nape of his neck in typical nervous fashion. This was strange. Familiar in a way he couldn't place, like déjà vu but accompanied by different starring roles. He couldn't shake it. 

“You're waiting for Ladybug,” she said simply as though that were explanation enough. Chat shuffled from foot to foot, trying his damndest to settle the rocky ground he found himself atop of.

“Am I that transparent?” He tried. Perhaps he could egg her into an explanation.

“No, I saw your cute little note in Chloé’s newspaper,” she confessed, side eyeing him. Chat couldn't keep the alarm from his eyes even if he'd tried. 

“Did you… tell her?” He mustered the courage to ask, his heart beating erratically despite his attempts to even his breathing. Chat didn't need to specify a name, Marinette knew there was only one she to which he could be referring. 

“No,” she breathed, plummeting the built up hope running through his veins. “My friend just pointed it out to me a little bit earlier. I just thought to come up and warn you, ya know? Alya is always looking for a scoop and she's hot on your trail.” 

“Oh.” Chat wasn't sure what to say in response. He'd really tried not to invest too much of himself in this but there was an untamable desire inside that truly believed she would show. The devastation that lurked within was just below the surface but for now Marinette was keeping the contempt at bay.

“If it makes you feel any better, I haven't been in touch with Ladybug in a really long time,” she said following the brief silence. “I don't know where she is anymore or how to find her.” Chat both heard and felt the sadness in her voice, a mirrored image to his own. At least Chat hadn't been the only one she'd left behind. In a world of billions, how was he to find one person if this plan failed? If not even Marinette knew where to look? He used to believe that they would meet again, that things would be better the next time around, but these days- now especially- he wasn't so sure anymore. 

“I knew when I attempted this, it probably wouldn't work out. She's been gone from my life a long time now and yet I still hold on to this silly hope that she'll come back,” he professed. Chat knew he was out of chances, had been done with those for a long time now. He wasn't sure why he was admitting any of this to Marinette of all people, the girl he'd denied and was more than likely out of chances with as well, but her presence somehow comforted him. His life was going to hell in a handbasket but at least she was there to see him off. “I know it's stupid or whatever but I just can't seem to let go.”

When he looked to Marinette, he'd expected to see some form of general understanding and sympathy, but he was surprised to discover she in fact looked…  _ angry _ ? Chat gaped at her slightly in bewilderment. 

“You're right,” she said flatly. “It is stupid.” Was Marinette furious at ladybug for disappearing? Disgusted at his infatuation with her? “It's been five years, Chat. Maybe instead of feeling sorry for yourself, it's time to bet on a new pony. If she was going to come back, don't you think she'd be here by now? And I don't just mean tonight,  _ here _ . She would be in Paris, showing her face somewhere, anywhere after all this time if she had any plans of returning. But I think it's just time to face facts, kitty,” a pause to let him await the hammer that was to fall. “She's never coming back.”

The words, while they stung, did put reality into perspective. He was pining after a ghost, someone who he really didn't know anymore. Who was to say that Ladybug hadn't changed, wasn't the same upstanding citizen she'd always been in the time he'd known her? Chat himself was an entirely different breed than the one who'd said those painful goodbyes. He certainly had a hard time believing that she would fall victim to the negative emotions they had fought against day in and day out a lifetime ago, but that didn't make it impossible. It only meant that Chat didn't know anymore, didn't know a damn thing. Everything he'd ever believed had been a lie, what would make this so disparate?

If the sharp jabs had come from anyone else, he probably would have brushed them off without a second thought, but coming from Marinette, it was a different kind of revelation. If he was being candid, her bluntness had taken him off guard entirely, but it was a truth that had to be shoved in his face. No, he found he was extremely thankful for her honesty, no matter how painful it was. He wasn't sure he'd ever be over Ladybug, but at least this was a start. 

“Me-ouch,” he chuckled before pressing a fist to his chest in mock pain. “Milady wounds me.” The downright hostility that greeted him in her gaze only made Chat grin from ear-to-ear. 

“Stupid cat,” she muttered, tearing her eyes away from him once more. 

“Stupid, I may be but at least I've picked up some manners along the way,” Chat taunted before taking a small step away from her for his own safety. He felt as though he may cut himself on her serrated edges if he got too close. He wouldn't admit what kind of reaction Marinette’s malevolence sparked in him, but he was rather enjoying himself.

“I'll believe that when I see it,” she discredited. 

“Seeing isn't always believing.”

“Unfortunately, we're adults and don't reside in a Christmas tale. Believing lies in cold, hard facts,” She countered as Chat maneuvered around her. He was but a cat playing with a particularly venomous mouse. Marinette refused to look his way and so he popped up near her opposite shoulder.

“Oh ye of little faith,” he scolded into the shell of her ear as she swatted him away with the back of her pale hand. “Wouldn't it be fair to claim that it takes bravery to have a strong faith in something that you can't hold in your hands, witness for yourself?” 

“That's asinine,” Marinette chided, shaking her head in disbelief. “Trust me, I’d know. I've been down that path before, it all leads to heartache and nonsense.” 

There was a brief hesitation in which Chat considered if she were referring to Adrien. Had he really hurt her so badly? Someone certainly had judging by her apparent dismay, but they'd really never been that close. He had just assumed her confession came from a physical fixation, not from who he was as a person. Adrien was a mess at best, so he had some very large doubts that he could possibly play that role in someone's life. Most everyone he'd ever thought cared for him had washed their hands of Adrien quite some time ago. The others… well he'd severed some ties himself. 

Whether it was Adrien or some other fool that had Marinette reeling, it was Chat that was present to shoulder the task of easing her distress. Distraction was his best bet. Coincidentally the sharpest tool in his box as well. 

“Don't you know that a little mischief is good for the soul?” Chat winked at her then before leaping up on the railing itself, tail flowing in the wind behind him. He decided that the enhanced abilities the suit gifted him would never grow old. Yet another reason Chat was superior to Adrien. 

He put one foot in front of the other, balancing as though he were walking a particularly narrow tightrope. Marinette blinked, the only sign of surprise she would show. Utterly unimpressed. Well then, he'd just try a little harder to get her attention. 

Chat leaped from his spot before landing in front of her, both feet planted squarely around her forearms. Finally,  _ finally  _ those blue eyes looked his way. He wanted to tip his head back and laugh at the ire he found across her features. Instead he let her anger anchor him, a knife sliding straight through the usual hesitation and doubt. He crouched down until they were face-to-face.

Chat idly wondered what Marinette would do if she knew that under his mask, he was none other than her adolescent crush. Would she be so bold? He'd never really heard her put together a coherent sentence when speaking with Adrien until tonight, but Marinette’s words now were sharp as a dagger’s kiss. Adrien hadn't even realized she had the capacity for such callousness. Then again, he couldn't be the only one who'd vastly changed since graduation. 

Pushing such thoughts to the back of his mind, he leaned forward until their noses were almost touching. “Tell me, are you seeing anyone, milady?”

Her big blue eyes narrowed into slits,  no doubt dubious at his random question. He could see the gears working in that cunning mind, turning his words over in search of the trap. His disappointment when she pushed back from him was alarming, as if she'd taken away all the bright solace of the sun with her proximity.

“I don't see how my personal affairs are any of your business,” she claimed, blowing out a puff of exasperated air that sent her bangs askew. Chat hoped down from his perch, standing a few paces behind her. “But no, I'm not,” she admitted softly.

Chat grinned behind her back. He didn't know why her answer thrilled him, didn't feel like questioning it either. No, he wouldn't consider Adrien’s role where Marinette was concerned. Chat was having a bit of fun for the first time in a long time. It was freeing enough that he wasn't willing to dwell on what any of these feelings actually meant. 

Chat crept up behind Marinette, running a gloved nail lightly across her exposed shoulder. He hadn't realized in her rush to get away from him, her jacket had fallen down to her elbows. To his eternal surprise, she didn't bat him away this time. Marinette only watched his fingers make their tantalizing trail along her skin. His satisfaction at the goosebumps that surfaced on her skin was a new element in this concoction. 

“Well then, may I ask what you were doing out here when your party is located a few levels below? Won't you be missed?” He prodded though Adrien knew very well that she'd gotten along fine after their brief encounter upon arriving; that someone would indeed come looking for her any minute, more than likely Alya, and then she'd leave again. He didn't want her to go.

“No way, I'm probably the least interesting person here,” she snorted before spinning to face him, effectively disrupting their contact. His hand fell back at his sides though it didn't keep his fingertips from tingling. “And don't be coy with me, Chat Noir.” He may have liked the way his name sounded on her lips. 

“I wouldn't dream of it, princess. Besides, I think you're the most fascinating person here.”

“You only say that because you haven't really met any of the others,” she challenged.

“I don't need to meet them to know that you're different. Special. You always have been.” 

While she and Chat had only some minor interactions in the past, it was the sole glimpse of the real Marinette he'd ever gotten. The girl he'd met at school had always been nerves and tied tongues, but Chat knew she could also be fiercely loyal, that her morals put everyone else’s to shame. She'd always shined brighter than their other classmates, but it hadn't been enough at the time to dim Ladybug’s blinding light. The past was the past and there was no changing it. He'd have to utilize this time to make some sort of amends. 

Pushing those thoughts to the side for later consideration, he focused on the matter at hand. Chat’s tail snaked loosely around Marinette’s waist without her notice. She was far too busy glaring at him in distaste. He found he enjoyed her cruelty far more than he should. He also discovered he didn't give a damn what he should or shouldn't do. Those lines had blurred so long ago that Chat was exhausted from trying to keep them straight in his mind.

And so Chat pulled his tail taut causing Marinette to stumbled forwards into him. Just as he'd planned, he caught both of her wrists in his hands, allowing his body to act as her safety net. He slowly intertwined their fingers on one side, leaving his other hand to rest on her waist. The festering anger she harbored for him began to dissipate, giving way to something else entirely. In a daze, Marinette allowed him to guide her hand to the side of his shoulder.

“Would you consider a dance with me?” He requested, genuinely hoping dispute the odds that she would honor him the favor. She took a sharp intake of breath, considering. 

“Down there? In front of everyone? No offense, but I don't think Nino really plays the music you had in mind,” she replied softly. He could tell she still wanted to be angry, though he could see that facade crumbling the longer they stood there in each other's arms. He couldn't place why she wanted to hold onto that resentment, surely it was a heavy burden to bare, but he would coax it from her the best he could. 

“Not down there,” he corrected, gazing into her subdued stare. “Right here, right now.”

“But there's no music,” she murmured.

“We don't need music,” Chat reasoned. “Or we could always just pretend.” Marinette face was contemplative for a moment, considering his silly offer. Her answer felt like a long time coming. 

“Okay,” she conceded.

“Stubborn through and through, huh?”

“I said yes!” Marinette skwaked in outrage. 

“‘Yes’ would be acceptable, ‘absolutely’ would be good, ‘I thought you'd never ask’ is most preferred. But you, milady, said ‘okay’.” 

“Excuse me, how could I be so discourteous? Let me try again,” Her words were dripping in sarcasm. “Please, oh great and almighty Chat Noir, I would be humbly honored to share a dance with you.”

“Oh look, she does have manners, afterall.”

Marinette began to roll her eyes, but the motion didn't have a chance to finish as Chat swept her off her feet. Literally. She squeaked- actually  _ squeaked _ \-  as his arm gripped the circumference of her waist before hoisting her to the side and spinning in circles. Much to his surprise, Marinette barked out a laugh that had him grinning back at her. The closest she'd come to actually enjoying herself all evening had been those moments after she'd spoken with Alya. But this was something different, something more and Chat couldn't be more pleased by the turn of events. 

Eventually he settled her back down on her feet. Those harsh edges were finally soothed, the fire in her eyes reduced to embers. Marinette peered up at him through dark lashes, a small smile playing at her lips. Chat had to look away from those lips, lest he kiss them, consequences be damned.

So, instead he continued their dance, though more gently this time. Dancing was a relative word however, it was more so a movement of swaying in place. While the music, or lack thereof, didn't hinder them from dancing, there wasn't exactly a beat to follow. So they made their own. Marinette began to soften, resting her face against Chat’s chest and allowing him the lead.

He decided he was wrong in thinking this rooftop wasn't so romantic when he'd said his goodbyes to Ladybug. It was fairly dark out there but Paris, the city of love, acted as a blanket of backdrop twinkle lights, illuminating enough that he could see her clearly. Chat was drunk on her proximity; the smell of a pomegranate shampoo wafting from her hair and tickling his senses, her breath seeping warmth to his chest, the feel of her hand in his own, not skin to skin but perhaps more intimate than anything Adrien would have to offer. It’d been a long while yet since he'd felt such hopefulness swell in his chest.  

It was ironic, Chat knew, that Marinette would be the one to help him feel something other than the relentless anxiety that typically hounded him. Aces, why hadn't he at least attempted some sort of relationship with Marinette when she'd told him how she felt? 

In the end, the answer was simple though. Adrien was young, dumb, and heartbroken. In that moment, nobody aside from Ladybug herself would have had a chance. Regardless of his decision, she deserved someone's whole heart, not just the pieces that were left and Adrien couldn't summon the strength to give her that when she'd asked.

So maybe Adrien was out of the picture for her, maybe she wouldn't give him the time of day after he had rejected her. Aces knew he didn't deserve another chance were Marinette to ever consider it. Chat, however was his own entity, completely separated from anything Adrien had ever done to her. In that, there was hope; one that he clung to despite the odds.

Chat stilled, swallowing all his fears and insecurities as deep as they would go before placing a clawed finger beneath her chin. Marinette’s mouth parted as he tipped her face up to study her fully. Her beauty truly was devastating and he wondered how he'd never noticed it before: the clear spark of a fire between them. Perhaps Chat’s magnified abilities enhanced  _ those  _ kind of senses as well, maybe he just didn't notice as Adrien. He didn't care the reason, all he knew was right now he wanted to kiss her. 

Just as he leaned in to do so, however, the black ears atop his head flexed as the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed from the stairs. Aces, someone had indeed come looking for her. He had but a few seconds to depart from Marinette. It was eerily familiar to all those times he or Ladybug heard the monotonous beeping of their jewelry, warning them to flee conspicuously. 

“Someone's coming,” he warned, taking one last drink of her. Marinette asked no questions nor offered any explanations before stepping back from him. The chilled air flooded in where her warmth had only just existed but not before Chat could grab her wrist. Slowly he raised her dainty hand to his lips, pressing softly. 

“Until we meet again, milady,” Chat taunted seductively. The fire he expected to again grace her features was absent, in its place was guilt; some sort of longing and confusion that he couldn't fathom a reason for. He didn't have time to wait around and question it, either. Chat quickly extended his pole and was vaulting to the dome a breath later. 

Landing on the roof was a breeze, but attempting to find a spot in hearing distance yet out of sight was a different story with the little time he had. He clutched the metal beams with clawed fingertips and slowly edged down the outer side of the dome.

“Marinette! I've been looking all over for you,” Alya demanded in a rather flustered tone. It warranted enough curiosity that Chat found himself peering over the side. Alya's hands were placed firmly on her hips, lips pressed into a thin line. “Where have you been?”

“I- uh.. I came up here to see if I could spot Ladybug for you… but I just got distracted by the… uh, view,” Marinette stammered. Chat couldn't help but be satisfied by the blush that surfaced across her cheekbones. He liked his new nickname too.

“Listen girl, we may not have spoken in the last five years, but that stammer could only mean one thing,” she accused while narrowing her eyes. “Where is he?” Chat ducked back down over the side of the large dome as Alya began searching the immediate area, looking for… what? Or  _ who,  _ he supposed.

“He's not up here,” Marinette finally answered. Chat assumed Alya's search ended as soon as it began but he wasn't brave enough to face her deadly wrath and so he stayed put. “I came up here in hopes that he may follow, but…” she trailed off. Chat’s heart plummeted. Of course she was interested in someone. With a compassion that seemed designed for only her to inherit, a beauty so fatal, she was bound to have a special someone. Just as he began to drop away to give them some privacy however, Alya’s next words stopped him dead in his tracks.

“You still love Adrien.” Not so much a question, but a sentence he intended to hear the response to, nonetheless. 

“I… don't really know what I feel, I guess,” Marinette began. Chat braved the chance of being spotted, pushing himself up on tiptoes in order to observe once more. Marinette had her arms crossed over her chest, peering down at the pool beside them. “I don't want to get into all of this now because that's not what tonight is about. I'll give you the whole story after I finish begging for your forgiveness later this week.” Her sigh was small, but it struck Adrien like a blow to the gut. “Basically, before I moved to America, I finally told Adrien how I felt and he didn't feel the same way. But tonight it felt like we had this moment right after we got off the elevator.” Finally she looked up to Alya who had softened quite a bit over the span of her explanation. She stood in reaching distance of Marinette, studying her the way someone might watch a wounded puppy. “Don't get me wrong I'm not reading too far into it, but it felt so much like being in high school all over again. Everything came rushing back.

“I really tried to get over him while I was in New York but I just think there will be a part of me that always has feelings for him.” She paused, wiping the small tears forming with the back of her jacket sleeve. “I don't know how to stop it Alya, and I don't know where that leaves me.” 

The ache in Chat’s chest was at once unbearable. Familiar. But certainly more painful than usual. In his devastation at the loss of Ladybug in his life, he hadn't realized how far her own hurt had gone. 

“Oh honey,” Alya soothed, tucking Marinette’s hair behind her ear. “You know, something tells me Adrien is probably kicking himself for rejecting you after seeing how bomb you look tonight. But if there's one thing I've learned since you've been gone is that while we mature gracefully, boys will remain forever dumb,” Alya teased with a wink. Marinette’s giggle in response eased some of the weight he was carrying. Aces, he was dumb, wasn't he?

“None of that matters, though. What's most important is that you're here, Marinette. You're back in Paris, finer than ever, and your bff has your back. Let's go make those dumb boys drool all over Chloé’s expensive carpet.” Marinette didn't hesitate, only closed the distance between them in a bone-shattering hug. Alya's initial squawk of protest had Chat holding back a laugh of his own, eventually though she returned Marinette’s embrace with vigor. 

Chat smiled to himself as he edged down the side of the dome. It was good that Marinette had Alya, someone in her life to comfort and help see things for what they were. Their relationship, while strained, would survive through the worst of slights. He didn't know that they had a falling out between them, but he had utter faith that they'd find their way back again. Adrien, he doubted, would be so lucky. 

Chat used his staff to land firmly on a vacant balcony leading to the room he'd purchased himself for the evening. He wasn't sure why he'd gotten it, only that if he needed a quick escape, he would have it. He was thankful for it now, to have a moment to himself to process the last hour.

He knew he had to get back to the party to keep from suspicion, especially if Alya was on the prowl, but all he wanted to do was speak with Marinette. It was strange that he'd gone looking for Ladybug and instead returned to his empty hotel room with a lighter heart. Strange indeed that his encounters with Marinette, as both Adrien and Chat had helped to sooth the tidal wave that had overtaken his heart. How had these feelings surfaced so easily when he couldn't force himself to have them for anyone else since Ladybug? 

“Plagg, claws out,” he croaked, voice hoarse with repressed emotions. A green flash and his world was back to the same crushing reality. But at least now he had a mission: getting Marinette to give him a chance. Whether it be with Chat or Adrien, as a friend or more, he didn't care. All he knew was that somehow her proximity had become a balm to his existential dread and he hadn't quite had his fix for the evening. 

“You sure have been spending a lot of time as Chat Noir,” Plagg asserted, releasing a yawn that Adrien suspected was more dramatic than necessary. “A growing Kwami needs his beauty rest. And food. Lots of food. Preferably cheese.”

Adrien suppressed the urge to laugh as he shook his head. The only downside to transforming into Chat was his lack of quality time with Plagg. He appreciated his Kwami more than he'd ever know. He was quite possibly Adrien’s only friend and certainly the only one he could really talk to. His guilt could always be eased in the form of camembert, though.

“I've got a whole wheel waiting for you this evening, fattie,” Adrien teased, holding open his jacket to clear the way for Plagg’s arrival. Once successfully snuggled into the pocket, he tossed a camembert wedge in for his companion. A second for good measure before using a finger to stroke a furry tuft on Plagg’s head.

The reunion awaited. Hopefully he'd catch Marinette before she left and have a chance to talk to his former classmates a little more too. It was a surprising change of pace, looking forward to something. He smoothed the lapels of his jacket in the mirror before heading out of his room.

But as the door closed behind him, he froze as he was blindsided with a startling revelation. Marinette had known that Chat would be waiting for Ladybug, but he hadn't designated a specific location in his small blurb in the newspaper. So how exactly had Marinette known where he'd be? Where Chat and Ladybug had last spoken?

Something didn't add up and Chat was determined to uncover the truth.


End file.
